Warbler Blaine
by roobot
Summary: It's our experiences in life that shape who we are, and Blaine Anderson can attest to that. Connected one shots looking at Blaine before and after he meets Kurt Hummel. Eventual Klaine.
1. Chapter 1

Gently pushing down on the keys, Blaine Anderson (age: fourteen and three quarters, height: short, hair: dark and impossible to manage) was moping in the best way he knew how- playing Here Comes The Sun on his mothers old grand piano.

It wasn't as if he didn't have reason to. In fact, moping might be the wrong term. More like contemplating his entire character and everything he was, and comparing it to what society told him he should be. Perhaps a fairly heavy thing for a fourteen and three quarter year old boy should be thinking about, but under circumstances…

You see, Blaine Anderson is gay.

He knew it from the bottom of his heart to be true. Ever since his friends told him off for watching so many Disney movies and musicals, and reading his older sisters' gossip magazines over her shoulder. Ever since the sixth or seventh grade, when all the other boys in his class started talking about girls and their looks and other things that had made Blaine feel super awkward and uncomfortable, because he didn't want to participate in those conversations. Ever since grade eight, when he finally realized the reason his stomach twisted and turned and his face got hot every time he talked to Lucas from science.

Yes, he could safely say he knew for certain that he was gay.

He could also safely say that he didn't want to be.

He heard everything that his classmates said about gay people, all the names they uttered. Blaine himself didn't understand what the problem was, but obviously to others it was, indeed, a problem. It was weird, _abnormal_, to be attracted to someone of the same sex as you. It was strange, freaky, _queer_, to think about two men holding hands or God forbid anything more. And then today…

With a sigh, Blaine rested his head on the cream and brown keys, feeling an immature satisfaction in the loud plunk of several notes being hit hard at once. Just then the front door opened and high heels clacked against the tile of the atrium. He glanced around, watching his mother walk down the hallway with her arms full of groceries. He whipped around and hid his head in his arm before she saw him.

"Blaine? What are you doing here?" His mother's surprised voice came from behind him.

"Um… I came home early." He muttered, hoping she would drop it; knowing full well she wouldn't.

"Is everything all right, Bones? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Mum, I'm fine."

He heard a creak of wooden floorboards and felt her sit on the bench beside him. A hand rested on his narrow shoulder, causing him to retreat further into his arm.

"Did something happen at school today?"

"No, I said I'm fine. Please go away."

"Blaine-"

"Mum, I'm _fine._"

His mother was quiet for a minute. Then she retracted her hand and stood up with a small 'okay'. She was almost out of the room, when his guilt for snapping overwhelmed him.

"Do you think I'm different than… I should be?"

"Pardon?"

"Am I something other than what you expected me to be? When I was born, did you have an idea of how you wanted me to turn out?" His muffled voice caught slightly at the end.

"Well, I wanted my son to be kind and courteous and respectful," Mrs Anderson replied, "I wanted him to be fun and appreciate everything life gave him. I wanted him to treat others the way he would want to be treated. I'd say I got all those things." Blaine could hear a smile in her words.

Blaine gulped. This was it. He had to just man up and say it.

"What I meant was, do you think I'm different than… other boys. That I'm more-" another gulp, "… feminine."

There was a long pause.

"Well, you certainly are tidier than I expected you to be at your age!" His mother said with a laugh.

"You know what I meant, Mum." Blaine huffed, getting frustrated with the way she was dancing around the subject.

"Lift your head, Bonesie."

"No."

"… Blaine, show me your face."

Blaine squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to let any of the tiny stings turn into tears. Slowly he lifted his head and turned around to face his mother. He heard her small intake of breath.

"What happened?"

Blaine finally opened his eyes and looked at her. She was standing a few feet away, looking at his face with anger and sadness in her eyes. He knew what she saw, because no matter how much scrubbing he had done, the permanent marker drawings of male reproductive parts and offensive slurs on his left cheek and forehead. He glanced down at the floor, feeling hot and uncomfortable, eyes still stinging.

"Um, I fell asleep in math, and when I woke up, people kept laughing whenever they looked at me. So I went to the washroom, and-" His voice caught again, and this time he couldn't stop it. He felt ashamed of himself for crying, because he was almost fifteen, after all, but there was no helping it. Mrs Anderson rushed forward and sat beside him again, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. He burrowed into the crook of her neck and cried.

"I tried t-to rub it off, b-but I cou-couldn't and I cou-couldn't stay th-there any longer so I-I ran home." He gasped in between sobs.

"Oh, sweetheart. Oh, honey…" His mother said over and over again, rubbing his back. She waited for him to calm down. After what felt like hours, Blaine finally pulled away.

"If I told it was true, would you…. You wouldn't hate me, would you?" Blaine whispered hoarsely.

"Blaine, I could never, _never_ hate you. No matter what, I will never hate you." Her dark eyes were now shining with tears, and she reached up to brush his hair back from his face. He watched in anticipation, waiting for some sort of catch. She breathed in deep.

"It will take some getting used to, but I would be lying if I said I hadn't suspected…. Blaine, left me be perfectly clear. I don't care if you are straight, or gay, or purple or blue with antennae. I am your mother and I will support you no matter what. Understand?"

Blaine nodded. She gave him a small, sad smile.

"How about some tea? And a hot bath? And we need to find something to get the ink off your face."

"Thanks, Mum."

"Don't worry about it, sweet pea."

* * *

><p>So, yeah. I wanted to do something that sort of looks at Blaine and the person he is before he meets Kurt. I dunno how often I'll post, but hopefully it wont be too too infrequent.<p>

If you have any qualms with it, or with me, leave a review or send me a PM :)


	2. Chapter 2

"… And that's pretty much all you need to know. Any questions?" Wes said finished.

"No, um… I think I caught all that." He replied uncertainly.

"Don't worry, Blaine. Wes just likes rules and he really likes the sound of his own voice. You'll understand how the Warbler's do it soon enough." David said thickly around a mouthful of grapes.

They were currently sitting in Blaine's new dorm room at Dalton Academy for Boys. Blaine had only been at the school for three full days when Wesley Leung and David Makin had stumbled across him singing in the shower. They had cornered him the next morning at breakfast and demanded he try out for the school's glee club, the Warblers. Blaine had immediately refused, not wanting to draw any attention to himself. All he wanted at this school was to not have people pushing him around. He didn't want to stand out, at all.

When Blaine had come out, officially, that night his mother had found him sulking at the piano playing the Beatles, he had felt free. He knew that his life would be change, and people would treat him differently from then on, a point his father had been sure to stress.

He didn't realise, didn't comprehend at the time, exactly how differently people would treat him.

He had started to wear what he wanted. He started talking about things he felt excited about. He hung out more with the girls to exchange gossip, now that he could without ridicule.

Yet most of his school would now stare at him with judgment in their eyes. They'd whisper mean words about him. Sometimes they wouldn't bother to whisper.

He got shoved around a little more, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle, he told himself.

It had only been a few weeks since he came out when the posters for the Sadie Hawkins dance went up. Finally, he could go to a dance without feeling awkward about needing to ask a girl!

He had asked his friend Tanner, who also happened to be gay. Tanner wasn't bullied as much, because he was tall and blond and his older brother was on the football team. Tanner had accepted. Neither of them were interested in each other, but they just wanted to have fun like the rest of the kids in their school.

The night had been… okay. They didn't slow dance or anything; they didn't really dance much at all. They kind of stood on the edge of the gym and chatted and shuffled around during the more catchy songs.

Apparently that was too much for some people, though.

Blaine and Tanner had been waiting outside the school for Mr Dallas to pick them up when the dance was over. They were laughing at a joke Blaine had told when they heard it.

"Hey, fags!"

Turning around, Blaine saw three guys walking across the parking lot toward them. Blaine didn't recognise them, but they were taller so he assumed they were also older.

"Aw, look at them, all over each other." One of the guys sneered. Blaine glanced at Tanner. They were at least two feet apart, not even touching.

"You're disgusting."

Blaine couldn't remember much after that. He knew that words were exchanged; he knew that Tanner had told them to piss off and turned his back. He knew that the three guys didn't like that at all.

He had woken up in the hospital feeling even worse than the time he had the chicken pox and food poisoning at the same time. His parents and sister were standing nearby talked to a tall man in a white coat. His mother had fawned over him when they noticed he was awake. Blaine searched out his father's blank face and apologised profusely, crying and claiming he didn't want to be the way he was. He wished he were normal. His father hadn't said a word.

After that, Blaine's parents had talked to the principal. They had shouted over the phone at the school board. They had threatened a lawsuit. When Blaine suggested Dalton Academy, a school he had discovered while searching the web for new schools, they had exchanged a glance. Private school was expensive. But they agreed that it was for the best.

So now Blaine was here, in a small room with a bed, a desk, a closet, and beige walls that he hadn't yet decorated. His new navy blazer draped carefully over the back of his chair. And two boys a year older than him discussing the politics of a club he hadn't wanted to join in the first place. But Wes and David had assured him that the Warblers were cool, everyone wanted to be part of the club, and he would be at the height of the social pyramid.

Even though that's not what Blaine wanted, he had to admit that having new friends who thought he was cool was an appealing thought.

So Blaine had auditioned. And stared at the three council members as they gaped at him, astounded, before welcoming him warmly to the team.

Blaine watched Wes glare at David, who reciprocated with sticking his tongue out at him. Blaine hoped that someday he could have friends that would be so comfortable around him.

"Anyway, practices are Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday's at four, _sharp_. Here's your binder. We keep music sheets and stuff in them. You need to bring it to every practice."

Blaine accepted the dark blue binder with the scarlet Dalton crest on the front, with his name in gold at the bottom.

"What kind of music do you guys do?" Blaine asked.

"Well… we're mostly a cappella, so that limits us a little. We are partial to more, you know, Top 40 sorta thing." David said, who was now trying to throw the grapes into his open mouth. He leaned back a bit too far and the container he was holder slipped, spilling the little fruits all over the floor.

"_Shit_, sorry, dude. I'll get 'em." He said, getting on all fours and gathering them up.

Wes rolled his eyes, "We also do some oldies, sometimes. Mostly easy going, fun stuff, you know?"

Blaine nodded before noticing that David was reaching under his bed now.

"_Oh_, actually, you don't have to-"

David emerged from under the bed with a handful of dirty grapes and grinned.

"Dude, you have like a hundred copies of Vogue under there!"

Blaine closed his eyes and felt his face flush. This was it. They were going to start taunting him. Or at least make an awkward comment about finishing a paper for history, leaving the room quickly, and never speaking to him again, because he was now not only the new kid, but the queer kid too.

"You okay?" Wes asked kindly, "You look really sick."

"Can you please… not tell anyone? Please?" Blaine begged, looking from one to the other.

"What, about the mags? It's no biggie." David said, walking over to the trash can and dumping the fruit into it, brushing his hands over his trousers.

"Well, that and…" Blaine's throat closed up before he could continue.

He saw David and Wes exchange a glance out of the corner of his eye. He gulped.

"Look, Blaine…" Wes stared, "I'm not… assuming anything, but I just want to let you know… We don't, we _honestly_ don't care if you are gay, or bi, or just straight with a love for women's fashion magazines, okay? Um, yeah, just so you know."

He nodded, but didn't say anything in return. He couldn't believe his ears. If he could tell people, and no one would care… That would be more than he expected, more than he hoped for.

"Do you want us to leave?" David asked quietly.

Blaine waited a moment, before sniffing and looking up at them.

"No, its okay," He smiled, "Thanks. Really."

"No prob." David grinned back, punching him lightly on the arm.

* * *

><p>So, yeah. I'm not sure how the pacing of this turned out. But I didn't want to do two seperate chapters for each thing, I wanted the bad time in Blaine's life after he came out at his old school to be more like a memory than an actual story.<p>

Sorry if it's weird


End file.
